


Brotherly Lust

by kirakira_nanoda



Series: Love, Lust, and Alliance [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Incest, M/M, Slash, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-12
Updated: 2012-03-12
Packaged: 2017-11-01 20:04:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/360707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirakira_nanoda/pseuds/kirakira_nanoda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock desperately wants his brother but Mycroft is too caught up in society’s rules to allow that. John becomes the only barrier between them. Only one problem: There’s only so long temptation can reign before it is given in to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brotherly Lust

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to [Brotherly Love](http://archiveofourown.org/works/360673)

John let out a shuddering breath. ‘I… I’m not sure I’ll be able to take this…’

‘Nonsense,’ Mycroft purred in his ear, allowing his expensively moisturized hands to caress against John’s bare hip. ‘You did so well last time.’

‘Last time was… different,’ John said, looking down to where Sherlock was sprawled shamelessly on the mattress before him, that gorgeous arse in the air waiting for John. Well, Mycroft really, John was acting as the barrier between them once more, the only thing separating the two brothers, and while he was more than willing to do so, he wasn’t sure how long he’d last fucking Sherlock while Mycroft fucked him.

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Sherlock snapped, ‘it’ll be fine.’ Easy for Sherlock to say, he didn’t have to put up with the mind fuckery of being used so two brothers could pretend they weren’t breaking any social rules and shag. ‘You’ll do it, John.’

‘Sherlock, we can’t make him if he doesn’t want to,’ Mycroft berated, making John turn his head towards him and cut in.

‘No, no! I _want_ to; I’m just not sure if…’

‘I have a cock ring if you’re so afraid of losing it,’ Sherlock added, reading John’s thoughts like an open book.

Whatever reply John might have had to that was lost as he turned back around to see Sherlock had lain himself on his back and was now facing him, legs still spread wide offering John a full frontal view. Even though that was enough to be going on it was his expression that made John cave; his eyes almost pleading and his lips just barely parted, his hair fanned out on the pillow below him, he didn’t even have to use that sultry baritone to whisper the begging “ _please”_ , John was already sold.

‘Fine,’ he said, trying to sound like they were putting him through a hardship with this, but in actual fact it just sounded needy. He rejected the offer of the cock ring, knowing full well it would become horribly painful if they forgot about him, which they were liable to do once they met their own twisted ends. Sherlock set himself back onto his front, legs gathered up beneath him and arse in the air, waiting as patiently as he could (which was not very much) as Mycroft set about preparing John.

‘Hurry up, Mycroft,’ Sherlock hissed, rocking his hips slightly. ‘You don’t need to spend this much time.’

‘Just because you don’t want any preparation doesn’t mean the good doctor here doesn’t. Spread your legs further, John,’ Mycroft instructed, and no sooner had John done that he felt two of Mycroft’s fingers teasing their way inside of him. He hadn’t quite been expecting that much to begin with and had to fight to hold back his moan, Mycroft roughly fingering him and leaving him even more aroused (was that even possible? _How_ was that even possible?) by the time he finished.

‘Ready?’ Mycroft asked, ignoring Sherlock’s shout of “for the love of god, YES!” and waiting until John nodded before spreading his own legs a little further apart on the mattress and dropping his hips down to John’s level. After slicking himself up he did the same to John, getting them all lined up before slowly pushing forward.

‘Mycroft!’ God Sherlock sounded so desperate.

John had never been in this position before, he’d had no idea what to expect apart from he knew it was going to be more than he could take. Again he was forced with the rule of not speaking but there was no denying that profanity wrapped in a curse that unintentionally praised the Lord for the pleasure he was feeling. They let him have his moment, waiting until he actually remembered how to breathe again before Mycroft was guiding him back with him, pulling him out of Sherlock and slowly pushing him back in, basically using John to fuck his brother. Ok, this John could handle, Mycroft wasn’t actually moving inside of him so it was just like fucking Sherlock normally, except John felt so wonderfully full and Sherlock was moaning his brother’s name.

For a moment John was fine with this, but that moment was never destined to last.

Mycroft placed his hand on the small of Sherlock’s back, thumb resting right on his tail bone- the first and, John presumed, the _only_ touch Mycroft would allow – before curling his fingers around down to Sherlock’s hip, Mycroft’s free hand stilling John as he gently guided Sherlock back. From there it took less than two thrusts for the brother’s to establish a rhythm, leaving John so far behind.

He tried to stay still, tried not to touch either of them, and tried very, very hard not to make a sound, failing on all accounts. ‘Ok… you’re… you’re going to have to gag m-mmf.’ It seemed Sherlock had had the same idea, finding Mycroft’s tie amongst the strewn clothing and handing it back to his brother, Mycroft placing it over John’s mouth before he finished the sentence and tying it off tight enough to stop any escaping sounds.

Now John was muted the other two had no trouble pretending he wasn’t even there, Sherlock desperately writhing into John’s Mycroft driven thrusts, and Mycroft looking over John’s shoulder to watch him. ‘So shameless, Sherlock,’ he breathed.

John watched as Sherlock turned his head to the side and locked eyes with his brother, his fingers twisting in the sheets as Mycroft gave a particularly hard thrust through John. The way they were both moaning was once again giving John a complete mental mind fuck, Mycroft whispering how tight _Sherlock_ was and Sherlock groaning back how much harder he needed _Mycroft_ to take him. There were hands all over John’s body, each brother pretending it to be the touch of the other, grabbing him, stroking him, John was sure Mycroft even _bit_ him at one stage. John tried his best to keep himself under control but there’s only so long thinking about Anderson in a dress is going to be distracting enough not to lose it to the pleasure of fucking the Holmeses.

Mycroft’s iron control seemed to have slipped, his hands finding their way back to Sherlock’s waist regardless of how many times he pulled them away. He gave in, in the end, curling those perhaps-too-slender-for-his-figure fingers around his brother’s sharp hipbones, pulling Sherlock back into his forward thrusts and trapping John in a pleasure overload between them. It was too much and then not enough, taking completely and being completely taken, before he was pulled almost all the way out and almost completely emptied. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, not wanting to break Sherlock’s fantasy by touching him while his brother was and not wanting to reach behind him to hold on to Mycroft for fear of screwing up the rhythm, his fingers ending up tangling in his own hair, pulling desperately at the short strands for some kind of distraction. They were actually trying to fuck straight through him now, John sure he’d bitten straight through Mycroft’s tie trying to remain silent.

The desperation was obvious; this wasn’t enough for either of them, and as much as John liked being the only barrier between them, he really shouldn’t be there. He pulled the gag away from his mouth and turned his head to whisper in Mycroft’s ear.

‘Just… _fuck_ him.’

Mycroft’s resolve was breaking down and John’s words had dealt a fatal blow, the elder Holmes letting out a long held back moan.

‘John…’ he whispered shakily, but John wouldn’t have it. It was obvious to him that they wouldn’t be satisfied with this, that they just honest to God needed nothing in between them, though Mycroft didn’t seem to agree, holding him tight as he tried to move away. Well there was just one thing for then, wasn’t there? John let go of his self-control, finally giving way to the pleasure and building up to his orgasm. By the time Mycroft realized, there was no way of backing John down from the edge of that blissful fall. Had he been a spiteful man he still could have ruined it but Mycroft’s revenge was never so straight forward. He gave John a fantastic end, the good doctor actually curling over Sherlock as he thrust through his completion.

Sherlock cursed, not having been expecting John to end so suddenly. ‘My…’ it was almost a whine, John had ruined the illusion and Sherlock had not yet worked out he had done it for him.

‘ _Fuck_ him,’ John said again, slightly more forceful through his heaving breaths. Mycroft paused, honestly not sure what to do, his desires and his morals in direct conflict. Sherlock moved away from John, rolling on to his back to stare up at them, looking so debouched and pouty, thinking their evening ruined, not having heard John’s words. Evidently it broke something in Mycroft and John was urged away, almost pushed completely off the mattress as Mycroft leant down over his little brother, one simple touch – a stroke down those sharp cheekbones – turning all the lights on in Sherlock’s head.

‘Mycroft…’ he breathed before being scooped up into his brother’s lap, a single glance of hesitation shared before Sherlock took it upon himself, taking charge before his brother could change his mind. He leant down and stole a kiss, moaning appreciatively as Mycroft’s fingers threaded through his hair to pull him back down for another. Mycroft’s hand on his hip guided Sherlock down onto his cock, John’s seed easing the way, giving John a jolt of lust– the doctor still between them as they finally gave into their darkest temptations.

They fitted together so well that John honestly couldn’t give a fuck about how twisted and wrong it was supposed to be, watching Sherlock lose himself to his brother’s touch. He started speaking French, no doubt whispering dirty things to Mycroft as the elder Holmes responded with a faster pace, harder thrusts.

John was exhausted but fuck if his cock wasn’t giving it a damn good try, watching those two finally fuck, Sherlock getting louder the closer he got until he was clutching at his brother’s shoulders and desperately moaning his warning. Mycroft threaded his fingers through Sherlock’s hair once more and yanked his head back, latching his lips to his throat as Sherlock came, the younger shuddering beneath his brother’s hold, making such a mess between them.

Sherlock went almost completely limp in Mycroft’s arms, whimpering his name as his brother’s thrusts started to slow, letting Sherlock come down from his high, but not letting himself finish. Well there was no way Sherlock was going to let Mycroft leave without completion, waiting until his brother dropped him ever so gently back onto the mattress before shakily getting on to his hands and knees and crawling back over to him, head dipped ready to go down into that lap, but Mycroft grabbed him by the hair and stopped him just short of his cock.

‘I can allow no brother of mine to do an act so degrading,’ Mycroft said as Sherlock shot him a glance, head still bowed over his crotch.

‘I am simply returning the favour from last time,’ Sherlock informed, his post coital voice husky and raw, licking his lips before trying to flick out his tongue over the head of his brother’s cock, but Mycroft was weary of him, pulling him back.

‘Nevertheless, you are my baby brother. It would feel improper.’

Sherlock huffed, his breath dancing across Mycroft’s arousal, enough to make him twitch. ‘You just _fucked_ me, I think all bets are off.’ He slowly raised his head up as he spoke, letting his words be felt along Mycroft’s skin as well as heard, until they were eye to eye. Then, without warning, Sherlock shoved Mycroft back onto the mattress, holding his hips down as he once again lowered his head.

‘Sherlock!’ Mycroft’s protests were a waste of time, Sherlock cleaning his cock with – oh _Christ_ – the sleeve of John’s shirt before practically devouring him, his lips gliding effortlessly down his shaft. John watched, mouth hung open, erection desperately filling out, finding it wasn’t the _act_ that was arousing him, rather the way Sherlock was looking at his brother as he swallowed him down (if that wasn’t an example of eye fucking, then nothing was), and the fact Mycroft had given up pretending to care about moral and social standards, letting his _baby brother_ suck him off.

John couldn’t take this, watching Sherlock and Mycroft actually touch was somehow far more arousing than the mental mind fuck they had been giving him – John sure that they had actually broken a piece of his sanity with that, _positive_ they had broken him trying to fuck through him. The way Sherlock’s cheeks hallowed around his brother’s erection, the expression on Mycroft’s face as he watched, pulling Sherlock’s hair so he would suck harder… fuck, John couldn’t cope any longer. He wrapped his hand around his cock and brought himself off to the sight, Mycroft arching his back and holding Sherlock’s head into his lap with both hands as he came being the thing that set John off.

Mycroft shoved Sherlock onto his back before the younger Holmes had a chance to kiss him.

‘That’s disgusting, Sherlock,’ Mycroft berated as his baby brother swallowed everything he had been given.

‘Mummy always taught us spitting was a dirty habit,’ Sherlock shot back. ‘Besides, you swallowed _me_.’

Mycroft frowned slightly, the hand in the centre of Sherlock’s chest pinning him down easing up on the force as he pulled away to get dressed, John groaning as his shirt was once again used to clean up the mess. Was it wrong he never wanted to wash it again? Yeah, probably. Shit.

Once dressed, Mycroft looked down at Sherlock, sprawled on the bed where he had left him, tapping him softly on the chest with his umbrella, making Sherlock moan a little and arch his back suggestively as the tip of the brolly was dragged down his stomach.

‘I worry about your mind,’ Mycroft told him, seeing exactly where, given the chance, Sherlock would have that umbrella shoved. He leant down and whispered in Sherlock’s ear, before shooting a glance to John, reaching across to untie the tie from where it hang around his neck, tutting as it was apparent John had basically ruined it. John seriously could not muster up the energy to apologize before Mycroft had already disappeared and figured Mycroft owed him an apology first for breaking _him_ before John was prepared to say sorry about the tie.

Lying next to each other on the ruined bed sheets, Sherlock reached for John’s hand, squeezing it by way of saying thank you as they were both too fucked out to attempt conversation.

‘Well… I obviously won’t be needed to play the human condom again,’ John said once he’d caught his breath, making Sherlock snort. ‘Shame really, I did enjoy it but at least now Mycroft has given up the pretence of moral boundaries.’

‘I don’t think it will be happening again if that’s what you are implying,’ Sherlock said, obviously getting sleepy. ‘Once a temptation has been yielded to, it is unlikely to be yielded to again.’

‘Are you…?’

‘Upset? No. You know better than most that I can usually get what I want.’

‘Yeah, I also know Mycroft’s usually the reason you don’t. Though, if you ever…’ John cleared his throat. ‘…again, and, um, don’t mind having an… an audience…’

Sherlock smirked. ‘No, John, I think that next time the attention will be on you. Mycroft considers it only polite to repay you, I just want to see how long you last while we’re both trying to make you come.’

John’s eyes shot open. They were going to kill him. ‘Oh God… really, y-you don’t have to…’

‘Too late. Mycroft has his mind set. Expect to be kidnapped sometime in the week and possibly fucked until you pass out, Mycroft and I haven’t quite decided how many ways we want to take you, but it’s possibly best you don’t plan on sitting down for awhile.’ With that Sherlock fell asleep, leaving John to try and work out whether he was aroused or petrified.

**Author's Note:**

> Next chapter is series: [Brotherly Alliance](http://archiveofourown.org/works/360803)


End file.
